I feel somewhat ashamed that I've just now gotten around to reading our beloved Chekhov. What's remarkable about this gifted writer is his nonliterary vocation as a doctor. Most great writers of his time were either career writers (Gogol, Tolstoy), or editors of politically-minded journals (Nekrasov, the Dostoevskys). In this manner, Chekhov could represent a broader spectrum of Russian characters. He was the realist that Russian literature needed at the turn of the century.

These short works, published from 1883-1903, exhibit an evolving talent in Chekhov. From the first, "Death of a Clerk," we get a sense of the author's debt to Gogol. "The Huntsman" shows us his visceral understanding of dialogue and provincial setting (in Pevear's intro, Chekhov's letter to Grigorovich regarding this story, he claims to have written it in a day "in a bathing house"). The descriptions are remarkable for their lean, focused delivery. Some of the stories during this earlier stage are merely a few pages long, but portray clear scenes with fully developed plots and conclusions. In the same realm as Tolstoy's epics, these stories draw quite a contrast for all their brevity and impact.

By the middle of the collection, stories take on more blatantly psychological character development beginning with "Ward No. 6." Considering the anathema accompanying writing about the subject of the insane, this particular tale makes daring strides. This story speaks out what is at least whispered in most of Chekhov's work: the maddening banality of bourgeois life. Even his comedies like "The Fidget" and "Gooseberries" support this theme.

My favorite story is "A Boring Story," a first-person, rather unreliable narration by a bitter egotist in his twilight, as he ruins impressionable lives with his advice. Another favorite of mine is "Anna on the Neck," a brief sketch of the shift in the balance of power in a ill-fated marriage.